


It Will Get Better Soon

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Peace Offering, Spanish GP 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando had a pretty poor race that ended prematurely. Luckily he has someone in the paddock that can cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Will Get Better Soon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a peace offering. The next few things I'm due to post are not very webbonso so I'm giving you this to get through the cold storm of works/chapters I'm about to hit you will. 
> 
> It's a premature apology if you will :L   
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> #ForzaJules  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mark is staring intensely at the screen. He couldn’t get his hands on a set on McLaren headphones so he’s having to do with Red Bull ones, a timing screen and the limited information the commentators are giving him. It’s really not enough. He’d like to have access to more stuff but he just can’t. The cameras don’t want to seem to pick up the newly-painted McLaren even if it is being driven by their Spanish hero. They’re more interested in the fight at the front, the scrap for points.

He’s seventh, but he hasn’t yet pit.

Dropping the headphones he’s not even using on the work surface beside him, Mark strolls over to the timing screen on the opposite wall. His eyes fixed on number fourteens times, watching adamantly until it comes into the pits. His eyes are caught by the live broadcast as it finally picks him up, slowing into the pits. Without even thinking about it Mark moves towards the front of the garage, peering his head out and looking down the pits. It’s slightly slower than they would have been after but that could have been due to the tweak in the front win. He smiles as the car nips passed him, just in case he is looking his way and he sees him. Mark nods, moving straight back to the timing screen to see where he will re-entre the track. Fourteenth. That’s not too bad. A lot of the middle of the pack are bunched close together. If he can just catch them he can get back into the points.

It’s not long after Mark has relaxed back into his chair that he’s on his feet again, frowning at the numbers as the gap that had been closing to Hulkenberg in front suddenly increases. He doesn’t understand. The McLaren is on fresher tyres and is going faster. He shouldn’t have dropped back.  He looks across at the live broadcast just in time to see the replay of Fernando missing the apex completely and going straight on, botching up his breaking entirely. Mark runs a hand over his face. It’s Ok. He only lost a few tenths. He can pick them back up. He can-

He shakes his head when he sees Fernando’s name pop up on the screen, playing back his radio message.

Of course, Mark can’t hear it. He doesn’t think twice before opening up his phone and finding the McLaren live stream, desperately searching to see what had just been radioed to Fernando. The bottom falls out of his stomach; they are bringing him back into the pits. They’ll have to change him straight onto the quicker tyre to have any hope of progress at this point but bringing him back in isn’t helping their prospects at scoring any points this weekend. And Jenson is struggling for grip all over the shot. It seems to have gone from Ok to shit in a matter of seconds for the Woking-team. Mark, again, moves out to the front of the garage to watch Fernando’s stop, hoping that there is nothing too terminal and he can get back out on track again as soon as possible.

That is clearly not the case as Mark watches the front jack that should be propping Fernando’s car up be launched away from the front of the car.

And then there is the smoke.

His brakes have gone.

Mark doesn’t give anything a second thought, moving swiftly through the garage and out of the back. He heads straight for the still foreign coloured McLaren motorhome and takes the stairs two at a time. No one seems to be bothered he’s just walked in. It appears he’s managed to do so quite under the radar. Which is good because the last thing he wants now is to get more pressure and questions for Fernando.

He considers sitting on the bed lining the wall, but his first instinct is to turn off the television as he watches Fernando climb out of the car. He won’t need that. He won’t need to see the race is still going on without him. He’ll know it is without that cruel reminder. It’s only just after he’s turned it off the door behind him opens. He catches a glimpse of Fernando for about three seconds before the door is closed again.

“Am fine.” Mark hears Fernando say through the door. He frowns only for a moment.

“What?” Fabrizio’s confused voice returns.

“Will just get changed and comes straight back down.”

“But-”

“-Am Ok.” Fernando nods, backing into the room. He’s barely got the door closed before Mark’s arms are wrapped tightly around him. He relaxes back into the Australian’s hold. “Am Ok…” He repeats, sighing. Mark kisses his neck.

“What happened?”

“No brakes. Push the pedal but nothing. Am glad Geoff gets out of the way. Would have been nasty.”

“No one was hurt?”

“No one but a front jack…”

“Hmm… Thought I saw something flying in my direction.” Fernando turns in his hold, threading his fingers into Mark’s hair and pushing their lips together. Mark cradles him gently in his arms.

“Thank you…” Fernando whispers, his forehead resting against Mark’s. Mark holds him tighter.

“I came here to support you.” Mark smiles, moving the collar of his shirt slightly to reveal the one he has on underneath. Fernando frowns at his shoulder until it suddenly dawns on him. He starts frantically pulling at the buttons on Mark’s shirt.

“Are you not hot?”

“A bit.” Mark grins, but it’s all worth it just for this moment. His smile widens as Fernando’s fingers brush down the McLaren shirt he’s sporting, his fingers resting on his own name running down Mark’s side. “Worth it though.” Fernando smiles up at him, feeling so touched he can’t put it into words.

“…Why?”

“Well you sent me a picture of you watching Spa in a Porsche top… I wanted to return the favor.” Mark delicately took the sunglasses from Fernando’s face, knowing how Fernando had to be careful with his eye but just needing to see him properly. “Plus, even if I can’t show everyone I wanted to know I was supporting you.”

“Have your shirt…” Fernando mutters, dropping his eyes to the soft fabric. Mark tilted his chin back up.

“Yeah, but I wanted a bit of you.” He smiles into Fernando’s kiss. He knows how much he appreciated the text from Fernando with him wearing his team gear; how much he had loved seeing it, how supported it made him feel even though they were miles apart. Mark just hopes he’s emulating that feeling with Fernando right now.

“Fernando?” Three knocks have Fernando shooting across the small room, pressing himself into the door.

“One second!” He blushes, moving from the door slowly until he’s satisfied Fabrizio isn’t trying to get in. he turns back to Mark. “Have press things…”

“I’ll wait right here.” Mark nods, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders so he’s only wearing his Alonso McLaren shirt. Fernando beams at him. “We can just hide here until you’re ready to leave. Then I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

“Ok.”Fernando nods, letting Mark drag him towards him. He bites his lip as Mark begins to undo his race suit. “What…?”

“You need to change, yeah? Get into something more comfortable.” Mark smiles lightly, kissing Fernando’s nose. He just looks cutely up at Mark, forcing the Australian to steal another kiss. Mark drops the race suit to his hips before pulling the fireproof shirt over his head from underneath. He can’t stop his hands seeking out Fernando’s skin; tracing the muscles and feeling them flutter under his delicate touch. Fernando’s hands curls back into his hair, dragging him closer and pressing their lips together. It takes Mark a lot of self-control to move away from Fernando, his breath slightly panted. Fernando stifles a moan as Mark drops to his knees in front of him, slowly guiding the nomex down until it’s puddled on the floor. He can feel Mark’s breath against his crotch and it’s driving him crazy. He needs to calm down before he goes to the press but right now he can’t think of anything better than Mark on his knees in front of him. His hand tightens in Mark’s hair as the Australian sets a slow kiss to his hip.

“Mark…” Fernando moans softly, letting his head fall back. Mark smiles up at him before lifting one foot after the other and freeing him completely from the hot Nomex. Fernando’s breath catches as Mark hooks his fingers into the waistband of his fireproof underwear, letting his fingers graze his skin as he drags them also to the floor.

“Foot up.” Mark mutters, lips pressed just above Fernando’s knee. Fernando doesn’t feel stable enough. Especially when Mark shifts so Fernando’s leg is in between his own. “Nano…” Fernando tries to clear his head but he can’t think of anything but how close Mark is to him. How it feels like forever since they’ve been this close. It takes him back two years when he won here. When they were still racing together.

That had been the last race he had worn any other underwear but his fireproof ones.

Standing completely naked in his motorhome with Mark on his knees in front of him is so risky but so hot. Anyone could walk in right now. Anyone could find them like this. And there would be no explanation but the truth. The idea of being caught in this compromising position is terrifying and exciting. Fernando tightens his grip in Mark’s hair.

“No. You’ve got press things, Nano.” Mark can read him like an open book. Fernando’s heavy breathing and biting hard into his bottom lip means only one thing. “When you get back.”

“Tease…” Fernando breathes, blinking his eyes open. Mark smirks at him, pressing another kiss to his knee.

“Foot up.” Fernando relents, letting Mark strip him of the last piece of clothing he is wearing. Mark gets to his feet, slowly lying each item over the back of Fernando’s chair as he stands there, half hard and naked in the middle of his room.

“Where are your clothes, buddy?” Mark grins, back still to Fernando. He turns around to face Fernando moments later, an innocent look on his face.

“Have them in your hands.”

“No I don’t.”

“I see them.” Fernando smiles, folding his arms. Mark steps towards him, pulling them back down to his sides.

“How about I send you out there with nothing. That could be a fun little game.”

“Because one, you will hate much more than I do and two, I have Jenson’s help for revenge.”

“… Two very valid points.” Mark nods, dropping the shirt over Fernando’s head. He crouches in front of Fernando again, helping him step into his underwear then trousers before getting him to sit up on the bed and sliding his socks on. It’s when Mark is tying his shoes that Fernando speaks again.

“We match.” Fernando points out with a cute grin. Mark beams at him.

“Certainly do, buddy.”

“Could have matched in Ferrari…”

“You’d have only left me there alone, eh?” Mark points out, getting to his feet. He offers Fernando a hand, helping him back up.

“I like this.”

“Glad you do.” Mark smiles, slipping his sunglasses back on over his damaged eye. He kisses Fernando chastely. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“Will not be long.”

“Just get it all done now then we can relax, yeah?” Mark says, knowing Fernando a little too well. The Spaniard rolls his eyes before stealing one last kiss, moving towards the door.

“Will be quick.” He winks, disappearing from the room. Mark glances around it after the door is shut. He’s got twenty minutes.

\- - -

When Fernando gets back they watch the rest of the race together. Fernando with Mark’s body wrapped around him like a blanket as they relax back on the bed. Mark has never seen Fernando watch a race before and he finds himself more fascinated in Fernando’s concentration and comments than the race itself. It’s incredible to see that even though his race is finished his head is still switched on to it all. Mark had almost expected Fernando to curl into his arms and request the race was turned off but he didn’t. He happily crawled into Mark’s lap once he had returned from his press duties, not even saying a word.

Mark had cleaned up the room whilst Fernando was gone. Hanging up his race gear and putting it all away before sneaking back into the Red Bull vicinity (putting his grey shirt back on over the top of his McLaren one) and putting together a small picnic for them. Fernando had found it very funny to tease Mark, saying that the Red Bull food was much worse than the McLaren and Ferrari food and that it was no wonder he had left the team. Mark shut him up by putting a sandwich in his mouth.

They are curled together, Mark carding his fingers softly through Fernando’s hair once the race has finished. He can feel Fernando snoozing lightly on his chest, or at least dropping off to sleep and he feels like he’s done a good job. He wanted to come here and make Fernando feel better and he’s pretty certain he’s done that. In fact, he can feel himself getting tired as his eyelids suddenly start to feel very heavy.

“Mark?”

“Mmmm?”

“What is that?” Fernando frowns, pointing at the box Mark had placed on his desk. Mark glanced over at it, smiling a little.

“A Jenson bribe.”

“We need a bribe?”

“Yes.” Mark nods. “A bribe and a little pick-me-up.”

“Why?”

“McLaren will send someone up here to get you for debrief and shit. I’ve made an assumption they’ll send him. Or he’ll volunteer.”

“So we bribe him because…?”

“You’ll see.” Mark smirks, closing his eyes and pulling Fernando closer. Ten minutes later Mark is proven right when Jenson walks into his room without knocking. Fernando really hates that Jenson does that. That’s exactly how he found out about Mark and him in the first place. He had barged into Mark’s Red Bull cool down room, looked between the two of them and simply said: “About time.” Though in some respects Jenson knowing does make it easier on them.

“Fernando, we’re wanted for-”

“-Box.” Mark interrupts, not even opening his eyes. Jenson closes the door before moving towards the desk and lifting the lid off the top of the box. He gives one nod before pulling up a chair.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Only twenty?” Mark complains, looking over at the Brit. Jenson already has a slice of cake aimed at his mouth.

“You forgot my tea.”

“Bollocks.” Mark mutters, snuggling back closer to Fernando. Fernando frowns between the two of them, not understanding at all. “But it would have gotten cold.”

“Pre-planning, Mark. If you wanted more time you should have worked out a way around that.” Jenson shrugs, half of his words lost to the cake in his mouth. Mark tuts him.

“Does it, at least, make you feel a bit better.” Mark raises an eyebrow as Jenson chews his bite thoughtfully. He swallows, gifting another shrug.

“A bit.”

“There we go then. Thirty minutes.”

“Twenty-five.” Jenson returns, barely even interested in Mark as he takes another bit of the cake. Mark rolls his eyes. “You still forgot my tea.”

“I’ll send Fernando to get you some now.”

“Hey!” Fernando protests, poking Mark’s chest.

“That would kind of defeat the object of your efforts.” Jenson points out, gesturing to the box in his hand.

“True…”

“What is happening?” Fernando asks, sitting up slightly to look at his boyfriend and teammate.

“We have a system.” Mark explains briefly, pulling Fernando back close to him.

“Though we usually arrange this over text.” Jenson chews, propping his feet up on Fernando’s bed.

“Well, you both had a bit of a shitty race. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“How cute.” Jenson says, though his tone is undistinguishable.

“Well I can cheer Fernando up with a blowjob-”

“-Mark-!” Fernando blushes furiously

“-You’re secret weapon is cake.”

“And tea. Which you forgot.” Jenson remarks. Mark sticks his tongue out at him. “I’ll keep the blowjob thing in mind.”

“I would love to see you try, mate.” Mark grins, feeling the heat pouring off of Fernando’s cheeks.

“Maybe we change the subject?” Fernando pleads, half hiding himself in Mark’s shirt. Jenson frowns at him for a moment before putting his cake down and dropping his feet to the floor.

“That’s a McLaren shirt.” Jenson points out, gesturing to Mark’s chest. Mark just nods. It brings a small smile to Jenson’s face. “I feel touched.”

“Got to show my support for you guys somehow, eh? Even if it does have to be hidden.”

“You’ve had that on all day?”

“Yup.” Jenson wrinkles his nose.

“Sweaty.”

“All good actually, mate.” Mark chuckles, exhaling deeply and contently.

“Get up and give us a twirl then.”

“I’m quite comfortable actually.”

“Don’t be an arse.” Jenson teases, giving Mark a gently kick. Unfortunately he misses and gets Fernando.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“Now you’re kicking my boyfriend.” Mark shakes his head. “That’s harsh.”

“Give me a twirl.” Jenson repeats, this time making sure he kicks Mark.

“You’re like a child.”

“You brought me cake.” Jenson winks. Mark looks down at Fernando apologetically before kissing his forehead and getting to his feet. He’s barely balanced and Jenson is grapping at his side, turning him around. “Alonso?”

“Yes?” Mark smirks. Jenson mocks outrage.

“I feel cheated.”

“Talk to DC, maybe he’ll wear you’re clothes for you.”

“So much for supporting both of us…” Jenson huffs in a joke. Mark shoves his shoulder, falling back beside Fernando.

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Fernando? You in there?” The three of them look towards the door at the sound of Andrea’s voice. “Are needed downstairs for debrief.”

“Ok, just a moment!” Fernando calls back, snuggling into Mark again and having no intention of moving any time soon.

“And Jenson. Know you are both in there. Just because Mark bribes you with cake does not mean you can all hide for an hour.”

“Busted.” Jenson mouths, placing his cake back on Fernando’s desk.

“No…” Mark whines, grabbing at Fernando’s hips as he tries to get up. “Stay here with me.”

“Will not be long.” Fernando tries but Mark pouts sadly at him.

“We both know that’s a lie. You’ll be at least an hour.”

“Then will meet you back at the hotel?” To be fair Fernando really wants to go to debrief. He’s hidden for long enough and now he just wants to know what made his brakes overheat; what issue they have to fix now. Mark pulls him into a tight hug, not caring that Jenson is in the room.

“It’ll be better in Monaco.” He whispers in Fernando’s ear

“Am sure you say this about here…” Fernando sighs. Mark holds him tighter.

“It will get better. I promise. Just keep smiling, Fernando. Prove them all wrong.” Mark kisses him fondly, combing the hair back out of his face. “I’ll wait here for you.” He says back at a level Jenson can hear. “We’ll go back to the hotel together.”

“Ok.” Fernando nods, letting Mark take one more kiss from him before he opens the door. Mark nods to Andrea on the other side, awkwardly sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Mark.” Andrea acknowledges. “Nice shirt.”

“Don’t eat my cake.” Jenson warns, following Fernando out. Mark lies back on Fernando’s bed.

“Well… You do owe me twenty minutes…” Jenson looks sceptically between Mark and his cake before moving back into the room and taking it out with him. “Glad I could cheer you up!”

“Next time remember my tea!” Jenson hollers back. Mark just grins to himself. He might not be racing with them anymore but he still loves that he’s the one who can put the smiles back on their faces, even if he’s not there. Fernando catches him out when he slips back into the room a few minutes later, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Mark yields to Fernando onslaught, tangling his fingers in the Spaniard’s hair and trying to pull him closer. But Fernando resist.

“Love you.” He smiles, before heading back out of the room. Mark sits up, almost falling off the bed in his haste to follow him.

“Now who’s the tease!”

“Was revenge from Jenson because you forget his tea.” Fernando smiles, poking his head back around the door. “Do not worry. I make it up to you later.” With a wink Fernando disappears, and Mark finds he can’t quite wipe the smile off his face.


End file.
